


Brave George

by ChibisUnleashed



Series: RotG Halloween 2020 [13]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, You're Welcome, a wheresgeorge AU, lawl Bagel Shop AU, wheresgeorge, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: For RotG Halloween 2020: Day 13Where's George is all fun and games until somebody confesses their love through a one dollar bill.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Series: RotG Halloween 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967113
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Brave George

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Sylph!

Jack smiled as the notification dropped down from the top of his screen. It was one of the rarer emails he got, but always a delight to see.

Your bill has been found!

Tracking George was one of Jack’s guilty pleasures. It didn’t take a lot of time, but when someone out there in the world bothered to enter one of his serial numbers and told him how far George got, it always brought a stupid smile to his face.

The effort was worth the random pick-me-up.

Jack opened the email and clicked the link, hoping whoever had entered it had also left him a message.

What he read stopped him in his tracks. 

_“I got this bill as change from a barista I’ve had a crush on for two years and haven’t figured out how to tell them yet.”_

Jack felt his cheeks warming, his chest squeezing, and forced himself to examine every single fact before he got too ahead of himself. 

The message didn’t specify gender. The ‘them’ pronoun at the end was very deliberate. 

The bill was still in this city, which means it hadn’t traveled far at all. It could be one of his customers or it could be one shop over, if someone used a lot of cash. 

The timestamp was pretty definitive, though. Jack had only marked this bill today. The likelihood that a customer of his had gotten the change, moved to a different store, used the same bill, and then that bill had been used as change for another transaction almost immediately so that _that_ customer could go home and enter it right away was… fairly slim. Not zero, but slim. 

One transaction was a lot more likely than three. Even Jack knew Occam's Razor.

But that meant someone out there in the world had a crush on _him._ Had for two years! That was so exciting!

Jack felt so flattered and flustered and warm and woozy about it that he just let himself feel it for a little while. He wanted to _do_ something, of course he did, but all he had the capacity to do for a solid five minutes was grin and blush and flail his arms to relieve the built-up energy that wanted nothing more than to be directed at his secret admirer in the form of a tight hug or ruffled hair or politely distant vague spastic gesturing. 

It would probably end up being the third option. Whoever they were, they wrote their little message in an anonymous, obscure, loosely watched corner of the internet for a reason. They may have wanted Jack to see it, or they may not have realized he would see it at all. 

Jack took a deep breath and calmed the hell down. He didn’t even know who they were. They could be a creepy stalker person. Although, the chances that if they were, Jack wouldn’t have noticed until a random anonymous message on the internet alerted him to their stalker ways was… none. Probably, actually, none. Stalkers weren’t really known for subtlety. 

Still, this person might not be Jack’s type. This person could be very young, or very old, and one of those was definitely a better option than the other. They could be married, or dating someone, and that would be very weird. It was best that Jack keep his hopes firmly down and his mind entirely open. 

Because he was _going_ to find out who they were.

-o-

It only took maybe twenty minutes for Jack to realize attempting to memorize every serial number on every bill he entered in a day and to whom that specific serial number went was just… beyond his brain's ability. 

He had to whittle it down to just a couple strings of numbers in his head at a time. 

This meant only marking a small handful of bills each day, and only giving them as change to the regular customers. It would be a waste to send one off with a person who had never met him before. 

Jack only had to remember the serial number for as long as it took for the shop to slow down and Jack to grab his notebook. Then he could scribble something like, "went to lady with pink beret and three kids in sports," next to the serial numbers pre-written on the lined paper. 

It meant he couldn't do two at a time. If another regular walked in before he had his note down, Jack just had to wait for next time. The likelihood of mixing up the serial numbers and notes in his head was, understandably, way too high to be worth the pain. If he mixed them up, he'd lose both pieces of data. Best to keep one valid and be patient for the other. 

It went _painstakingly_ slow, but his admirer had waited two years to say anything to anyone, so Jack figured the couple of weeks it took him to narrow the field were his due. 

He checked wheresgeorge religiously at night, which was redundant but made Jack feel better. He would get an email if any bills were entered. It would only be a minute between the site and his inbox, so checking was stupid, but it made Jack feel proactive. His entire plan was so passive otherwise that it was driving him slowly insane. 

He wanted to know who they were already! He wanted to tell them how flattered he was and how honored he was that they bothered to enter his bill in. How sweet they were for writing what they did and how happy he was, even if they couldn’t be together for any number of potential reasons, on his and their side both. 

Although every moment felt like forever, when the hit finally came in, Jack couldn’t believe it had only been about a week since he started his hunt. In the time between pastries and coffees and freshly baked bagels, Jack had started to really think about just how many people he saw in his shop every day. How many only came in once a week. Once a month. Jack had started to convince himself he was in for the long haul. 

Apparently, it was a short haul. 

Jack ran up to his apartment, fumbled his keys, and tripped over the threshold on his way inside. He saw the email notification on his phone, and he had his notebook at the shop, so sure, he could have checked it anywhere, but…

But something about this, the tight little feeling in the pit of his stomach and the thrum of excitement he couldn’t quite keep down made him absolutely _positive_ that he did not want to cross check his list and the bill anywhere that someone might see his expression when it happened.

When _realization_ happened.

When Jack _knew_ who his mystery admirer was.

Oh God, he was hyping the absolute fuck out of this. 

Jack pressed a hand to his forehead and forced himself to take a breath. The serial number might not even be _on_ his list. Jack had entered hundreds of bills before this week! It could be any of them! 

He tossed his jacket over a chair and grabbed a glass of water. No, soda. No, water. And sat down at his desk to get to work. 

Every bill in every series was unique. Even if the same number was used, the same mint was not, the year would be different, or the denomination. Jack had chosen all singles, but he’d had to mark down the series after he’d run out of ones printed in 2003 on day four. 

He double-checked the letters, the numbers, the year… 

_‘Tall, dark, & handsome. Asks for pumpkin spice in Jan & always wears suit.’ _

Jack felt shock, disbelief, awe. His plan had _worked._ He knew it would work, but he hadn’t really thought… He was so sure it was going to be an earlier bill or something, or some totally innocuous message that made him wonder if another customer had just gotten curious about wheresgeorge, but no. No, there was no mistaking the message Jack read.

_“I got this as change from the sweetest barista in town. If only I knew how to tell them.”_

Jack bit his lip and clamped down on his excitement. He wanted to scream through the city, “I know, I know! Please date meeeeee!” but that was… probably the worst thing he could do, so Jack sat down on his own urges and made himself be less rash. 

The man could be married. He could be… ...Actually, Jack wasn’t sure what else would be a deal breaker. He’d love a kid. He’d figure it out with an ace. The guy didn’t look that old, and even if he was… If his spirit was young enough, Jack was game. 

_Still._ Running through the streets would only get him arrested, so Jack decided something a little more subtle was in order. 

-o-

Another week passed. Jack let his georgers fly freely; he didn’t need to track who got who anymore. Still, barely any hits came in. Most people didn’t read their money. 

It was near to closing when he finally walked in. Tall, dark, suit-guy with the combed back hair and the accent Jack always loved. Jack could listen to him talk for hours, and that was _before_ Jack knew he had a crush on him. 

He wiped down the counter and did his very best not to look like all he was doing was waiting for the guy to approach the register. It wouldn’t due to be over-eager and ruin his game. Jack _loved_ games. 

The man loitered near the door for a little while, reading the menu, straightening his cuffs. Jack tried to do that super-subtle extra coy thing of looking over without really looking like he was looking, but he failed it spectacularly and ended up catching the man’s eyes, catching him _staring,_ before they both looked away.

Smooth, Jack. Very smooth.

...But the man had been _staring._

Jack turned away to clear out the tissue linings from the bagel drawers that were empty now. Having his back to the man meant he couldn’t see Jack’s grin, and Jack _could not_ keep in his grin. This was so exciting. This was _too_ exciting. Jack was going to fucking burst. 

“Excuse me?”

Jack spun far too fast on his heel to greet him with way too big of a smile. There was only so much Jack could do with himself. “What can I do for you?”

He looked so tired tonight. His eyes were drooping a little as he stood there, fiddling slowly with his wallet. There was a tension to his stance, like he couldn’t bear to slump, or maybe he was nervous? It would be kind of cute if he was nervous.

“Long day?” Jack asked before the man could work his way back to speech. 

He sighed, deflated almost, and gave Jack a tired, but pleased smile. “Yes. Decaf tonight, if you don’t mind. I’d like to sleep tonight.”

Jack couldn’t help his laugh. “Then what’re you doing in _here?_ I swear, just inhaling in this place will give you a caffeine rush.”

The man laughed with him and shook his head. “It’s comforting. It’s nice. I like something sweet at the end of the day.”

Jack smiled at him a little too long before catching himself. He wasn’t sure what his smile looked like, but he was sure it was giving his game away. “Alright! Sweet it is! Something caramel, then? With extra whipped cream, of course.”

Jack wasn’t sure what this guy was talking about. The way the man was smiling at him, if Jack was sweet, then he was pure sugar. 

And Jack liked to think of himself as a little more spicy, anyway. 

The stragglers made their way out as Jack fixed his last drink of the night. The man waited patiently at the counter, tapping lightly with his fingers. It was a nice beat, rhythmic, steady. It was just tapping, but Jack could hear the song in it. That was the sort of fidgeting he could get behind.

He set the cup on the counter, and just as Jack had hoped, the man made to pay with cash.

When Jack counted out the change, he made sure to slip a bill he’d been keeping in his pocket for the entire past week on top of the stack before handing it over.

The man shuffled the change into a neat stack. He tilted the coins into a zippered pocket. He began to fold the thin stack of bills in half, then froze.

Jack made himself comfortable leaning against the counter, and waited.

Scribbled across the face of the bill, in Jack’s bigger-than-life script, was a message.

_“Wanna find out if I have a crush on you, too?”_

-o-

20-Jul-2020 06:55 AM |  [](https://www.randymajors.com/p/customgmap.html?cities=show&zips=19446&zipboundary=show&labels=show&title=Lansdale%2C+PA) Burgess, PA  | 8 Yrs, 14 Days, 18 Hrs, 8 Mins | 76 | 5.1 |   
---|---|---|---|---|---  
User's Note | I guess it’s time to let this George rejoin circulation. I got it as change from a barista I had a crush on and figured out how to tell. We’ve been married five years now. A little beat up, some obvious creases. Probably won’t work in a vending machine. Good luck, George! Bon voyage!


End file.
